Fascination Through Articles
by somethingcoolmusic
Summary: Jess has nothing better to do than go to a newspaper meeting. AU
1. To the school, or to the paper?

"Fascination Through Articles"

By: Sirius

          Jess stepped into the Newspaper workroom and took in his surroundings. There were two rows of tables where students were jotting down ideas on spare loose-leaf paper. A single row of computers where other kids were typing away furiously with their backs turned to him. A group of people huddled in the corner, obviously discussing dates over a calendar. The paper seemed to be a student-based council, an administrator only needed upon request. 

As he looked around, he didn't see a single face he recognized. However, he'd only been there a day, so it was hard to know too many people. Just as he was about to turn and leave, no harm done, he noticed her. He'd seen her in a few of his classes but hadn't talked to her. He didn't even know her name. 

She looked up, a look of deep thought gracing her soft features, and her gaze landed on him. Silently, he closed the door and stepped fully into the room. They continued to look at each other and her lips slowly turned up into a smile. He self-consciously smiled back and looked away, pretending to be looking for something. Finding nothing familiar to pretend to notice, he sighed and walked over to where she was sitting. There was an empty seat next to her and he sunk down into it, slouching. 

"Hey." She said brightly.

"Hey." He mumbled, looking at the paper she had been writing on. Her handwriting was of the girlish nature, halfway between manuscript and cursive. 

"You're new right?" He returned his gaze up to her questioning eyes 

"To the school? Or to the paper?"

"Both."

"Yeah, I am." 

She smiled warmly to him and said, "I'm Rory."

"Jess." He replied.

"Where'd you move from?"

"New York."

"Oh awesome. I went once, but it didn't turn out to be all we'd hoped. It must have been cool to grow up there."

"We?"

"Huh?" She confusedly asked.

"You said that New York didn't turn out to be all we'd hoped. Who'd you go with?"

"Oh, me and my mom. We went a couple of years ago, tried to go to a Bangles concert."

"Oh, cool. Did your dad not wanna go?"

"My dad doesn't live with me." She didn't look away from him and she didn't look uncomfortable, and that surprised Jess. Most of the time, if parents don't live together, it's a sore topic for the kid. Rory showed no concern.

"Oh, sorry."

"Don't be. So what brings you here?"

"To the school? Or to the paper?"

"Both."

Jess smiled and answered the first question.

"I'm here in Connecticut because my mom shipped me off to live with my uncle. I got in yesterday afternoon and he immediately signed me up for school."

"That's a drag. School your first day here. Who's your uncle?"

"Guy named Luke."

"Luke? As in Luke's Diner Luke? As in Luke Danes?"

"Yeah, Luke."

"Wow! That's so cool. Luke has fed me since I was five. He's a great guy. You'll like living with him." She spoke quickly and animatedly with adoration.

"I don't know him too well yet. All I know is he snores."

"Oh, didn't need to know that."

"Didn't mean to ruin the illusion."

"No harm done. So what brings you to the paper?"

"Didn't wanna go back to the apartment; didn't have anywhere else to go."

"Good enough. You wanna write anything?"

"Not today, I'm just breezing through."  
  


"I thought you said you didn't have anywhere else to go."

"I don't."

"So where you breezing to?"

"You want me to write something that bad?"

"No, I was just gonna warn you that if you stay here, you need to write something or else Sam will get mad."

"Who's Sam?"

Rory turned around and pointed across the room to a boy with curly brown hair, furiously ripping up papers that were printed incorrectly.

"That's Sam."

"Not a guy I wanna cross huh?"

Rory shook her head with mock concern. "It's not recommended."

"Hmm. Okay, can I borrow a piece of paper?"

"Sure." She reached into her binder and opened the tabs so she could hand him one. He took it with a smile and pulled a pencil out of his back pocket. Hunching over the paper so she couldn't see what he was writing, he began to quickly scrawl out words. She looked at him with amusement for a second before returning to her own paper and thoughts. 

Ten minutes later, Jess had successfully covered the entire paper, front and back. He grinned with accomplishment and ceremoniously handed the paper back to her. Her eyes skimmed over it and widened with every line she read. Beaming, she looked up at him and he laughed.

"You read?"

"I've read that."

He put his pencil back in his pocket and slung his backpack onto his right shoulder. 

"Best be off." He said with a hint of success. "See ya around."

"Yeah, see ya Dodger." He paused in the doorway, looked over his shoulder with a sly smile, and winked at her before leaving. She folded up the paper and stuck it in her binder for safekeeping. 

_Among other public buildings in a certain town, which for many reasons it will be prudent to refrain from mentioning, and to which I will assign no fictitious name, there is one anciently common to most towns, great or small: to wit, a workhouse; and in this workhouse was born: on a day and date which I need not trouble myself to repeat, inasmuch as it can be of no possible consequence to the reader, in this stage of the business at all events: the item of mortality whose name is prefixed to the head of this chapter.  
  
_

_  
For a long time after it was ushered into this world of sorrow and trouble, by the parish surgeon, it remained a matter of considerable doubt whether the child would survive to bear any name at all; in which case it is somewhat more than probable that these memoirs would never have appeared; or, if they had, that being comprised within a couple of pages, they would have possessed the inestimable merit of being the most concise and faithful specimen of biography, extant in the literature of any age or country.  
  
_

_  
Although I am not disposed to maintain that the being born in a workhouse, is in itself the most fortunate and enviable circumstance that can possibly befall a human being, I do mean to say that in this particular instance, it was the best thing for Oliver Twist that could by possibility have occurred. The fact is, that there was considerable difficulty in inducing Oliver to take upon himself the office of respiration,-a troublesome practice, but one which custom has rendered necessary to our easy existence; and for some time he lay gasping on a little flock mattress, rather unequally poised between this world and the next: the balance being decidedly in favour of the latter. Now, if, during this brief period, Oliver had been surrounded by careful grandmothers, anxious aunts, experienced nurses, and doctors of profound wisdom, he would most inevitably and indubitably have been killed in no time. There being nobody by, however, but a pauper old woman, who was rendered rather misty by an unwonted allowance of beer; and a parish surgeon who did such matters by contract; Oliver and Nature fought out the point between them. The result was, that, after a few struggles, Oliver breathed, sneezed, and proceeded to advertise to the inmates of the workhouse the fact of a new burden having been imposed upon the parish, by setting up as loud a cry as could reasonably have been expected from a male infant who had not been possessed of that very useful appendage, a voice, for a much longer space of time than three minutes and a quarter._

(A/N: Hey. Apparently Study Hall isn't as big of a waste of time as I thought it was. If you look at the people you're stuck with, they'll give you ideas for stories. :) I went to my first Newspaper meeting today after school, so I thought I'd write something about it. I know this isn't very original, but it was fun to write total fluff. Thanks for reading. ~Amanda)


	2. Where is home?

"Fascination Through Articles"  
  
By: Sirius  
  
Jess left the school after he'd finished talking with Rory. As he stepped out of the building, he looked around. If he crossed the street and turned the corner, he'd be back at Luke's and he'd have to work. He could explore a little, but by the looks of it, there wasn't anything to explore.  
  
He sighed and moved over to one of the vacated benches on the school grounds. He lay down on his back and cross his arms behind his head to prop it up. He pulled his headphones out of his backpack, fastened the headphones over his ears and listened to the first chords of the burned Dropkick Murphy's CD Dustin had given it to him just before he'd left.  
  
He missed Dustin more than he'd thought he would. School was boring without someone to hang out with. Jess had practically lived with Dustin, they were that close of friends. It was hard not seeing him every day. School here was different, the people here were different, and the life here was different. Not necessarily bad different, just different. Confusing. The classes weren't that bad. He didn't have to catch up much in any of them and it didn't seem like he'd missed much. The teachers were okay. He'd forgotten all of their names already, but it wasn't a problem because he usually didn't promote personal student-teacher relationships. He went to class, he listened, he did the homework, and he came back the next day to start all over again. Nothing personal about it.  
  
Minutes had gone by now and Rory exited the building, obviously just finished with her newspaper meeting. Her backpack was swung across her front and she was trying to force a textbook into its already packed compartments. Jess's eyes were closed so he didn't see her approach. Quietly, she sat down next to his head and lifted the headphones from his ears. His eyes shot open and he looked straight up at her.  
  
"Hey." She said brightly.  
  
"Hey." He said back. He sat up and pushed his backpack to the ground in front of him.  
  
"I thought you left."  
  
"I did."  
  
"No, I mean, like left to go home. As in you actually went home."  
  
"Home is a four hour bus ride away."  
  
"Oh."  
  
They paused and Jess wound the cord to his headphones around the CD player before sticking it back inside his backpack.  
  
"So where are you off to?" He asked her.  
  
"Home, probably."  
  
"And where is home?"  
  
She pointed in a general direction over his left shoulder and said, "That way."  
  
"You want some company on your trek?"  
  
She smiled. "Sure."  
  
Simultaneously, they stood up, hoisted their bags onto their backs and began to walk.  
  
"So when did you first read it?" She asked him, referring to the Oliver Twist excerpt he'd written a half hour ago.  
  
"I was in eighth I think."  
  
"It's a classic."  
  
"Agreed."  
  
The conversation stalled again. This wasn't supposed to be this hard.  
  
"So," he started lamely. "What were you writing?"  
  
"At the meeting?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"An article about volunteering. I do a section on the Feature page. My article can pretty much be about whatever I want, as long as it holds some significance."  
  
"Significance to what?"  
  
"Anything, school, current events, the season. Volunteering ties in with charity and the gift of giving, so it works with the season."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"You should write something."  
  
"Nah. I'm not very good."  
  
"You don't have to be good, you can be funny or you could be hardcore. It's up to you."  
  
"I'll think about it."  
  
"You should."  
  
"I will."  
  
They turned down a narrow street with little houses on either side. He knew that Rory only lived with her mom, so he figured they were getting close to her house.  
  
"So, overall, how'd it go today?"  
  
"School?" She nodded. "All right, I guess."  
  
"Well, in my opinion, if you could get your locker open, the day was a success."  
  
He motioned toward his heavy backpack that was full of the textbooks that had been issued to him. "I failed." They laughed for a second.  
  
"Oh man, do you have English Lit in there? That book is massive."  
  
"Yup, along with three other slightly smaller ones."  
  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to have to lug that all the way over here."  
  
"It's no problem, I offered anyway." He looked at her sideways and gave a small smile. She blushed and returned it. They turned again, but this time up a long driveway.  
  
"Well, this is my house. I'd better go."  
  
"Okay, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"  
  
"Yeah, see you tomorrow." She smiled and turned to go into the house. He stood and watched her as she reached the door and pulled it open. "Thanks for walking me home."  
  
"Anytime." He said as the door closed.  
  
~*~  
  
Sixth period English Lit. The class with the massive textbook. He'd been here for three weeks now and he was still amazed that they hadn't moved on past A Tale of Two Cities. It didn't help that he'd read the book before, twice. The debates were amateur and pointless. The homework was simple. The class was a waste of time. He didn't see a point in going anymore. In fact, he'd skipped yesterday. It was Friday and he was two periods away from the weekend. He could feel the freedom. The bell rang. He was on his feet with his low-slung backpack in place within seconds. Halfway to the door, he heard his name being called by Mr. Stone.  
  
"Hey Jess, wait up a sec."  
  
"Yeah?" He said, eager to leave.  
  
"Where were you yesterday? We missed you in class."  
  
"I had stuff to do." Vague answers usually ensured fewer questions.  
  
"What stuff?"  
  
"None of your business." He said defensively.  
  
"Whoa, hey buddy. I'm not trying to get in your way or anything. I just wanted you to know that I'm here."  
  
"Here for what?"  
  
"You know, if you wanna talk or something. If you're having problems."  
  
"I'm doing fine thanks."  
  
"Well, your grade has slipped in the past week. You're missing a lot when you're not here pal."  
  
"I'm not missing jack. This class is pointless. I've read the book, I can quote it from start to finish. I know the hidden meanings. I'm done with this."  
  
"Well, I just think that it might be helpful to you if you stuck around. You might be surprised."  
  
"Okay, listen. You're not my buddy and you're not my pal, you're my teacher. And you don't know a damn thing about me."  
  
"You're right, but did I ever pretend like I did?"  
  
Jess sighed, frustrated. "Just leave me alone."  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
Jess left the class in a hurry. That guy didn't know anything. And even if he did have problems, he sure as hell wasn't gonna admit it over tea with a teacher. Quickly, Jess ran to his locker, opened it successfully (he was getting better at that), and slammed it shut.  
  
"Whoa, what's wrong?" It was Rory.  
  
"Nothing." He mumbled bitterly as he tried to walk away.  
  
She put her hand on his arm. "Hey, hang on a sec. Are you okay?"  
  
"No." He looked up at her. "Look, can we just talk about this later?" She stared at him, trying to read his expression. He looked away.  
  
"Yeah sure. I'll probably see you later tonight." He nodded. "Bye."  
  
"Yeah, bye."  
  
She gave him one last concerned look before he hurried off to World History.  
  
(A/N: Hey guys! I was doing dishes the other night (my new job since my brother left for college) and I thought of the scene between Jess and his teacher. I know there was a time gap, but nothing really happened in there. When you move, time goes really slow and nothing happens for a few months. I dunno when the next chapter of this will be up, but hopefully soon. I'm working on the eighth chapter of Recalling the Best of the Worst Times, so that will be up before another update of this story. Thanks for reading and please review! ~Amanda) 


End file.
